


Salvaged

by Liisiko



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, Nux lives AU, Recovery, Slit lives AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-30
Updated: 2015-10-30
Packaged: 2018-04-28 23:25:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5109392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liisiko/pseuds/Liisiko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the Citadel it's been a year of healing and rebuilding, but for Slit it's been a year of hell. After being left for dead and falling into the hands of a group of bandits, the last thing he expects is to be rescued by a familiar face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Salvaged

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JauntyHako](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JauntyHako/gifts).



> My first exchange fic! 
> 
> I hope you like it. It usually takes longer than this for me to write a story, so this was something of a challenge to get done in time. I still don't feel like it's as good as it could be, but it's showtime anyway. So here we go!

Slit tested his chains for what was probably the thousandth time that day. At least being punished for his latest stunt meant that he was locked up alone in The Box, and not crowded in with all the others down in the holding pens. So what if his back ached and bled from being whipped, and the older wound on his side may have reopened again. It had probably quit oozing by now and at least he finally had some fucking peace and quiet. A chance to plan out what he was going to do to that filth when he came back!

Or at least that’s what he tried to tell himself. It was getting harder and harder to focus on escape and revenge these days. He’d rather pull out all his staples with a pair of rusty pliers that admit it, but he was scared.

The Box was the warlord’s favorite punishment for disobedient pets. Big enough to put a person in, but not nearly enough for one Slit’s size to stretch out comfortably. The inner surface was lumpy as well, which only added to the discomfort. There were a few holes drilled into it for air, but it was still uncomfortably hot and hard to breathe. 

Slit reached down to check the gash on his side. Yep. Still bleeding enough that it just might finish him. He’d always prided himself on not needing top ups like so many half-lives did, but what he wouldn’t give for a blood-bag right around now. He wasn’t nearly as devout as Nux had once been, but that didn’t mean he wanted a quiet mediocre end either. Bleeding out in this cramped, little box was the last thing he wanted.

Stupid box.

Frustrated, he kicked out, ignoring the dull pain it brought. He hated being in small spaces, always had. And it was much too hot, and not enough air, and it stank of sweat and piss. When were they going to let him out? Last time it had only been about a day and a half before they bothered to, but he’d heard stories about people being forgotten for weeks. Only remembered when their rotten corpses made too much of a stink to ignore. 

Maybe he shouldn’t have threatened the warlord’s brother like that. Playing nice was degrading, but still better that being trapped here with everything too small, and dark, and…and…

“Fuck that,” he told himself. “You start that shit and it’s all downhill. Might as well give up and die soft then.” Doing his best to push those thoughts away, Slit shifted around trying unsuccessfully to get comfortable in the cramped space.

\--

Whenever he came back to the Citadel Max always brought something with him. Sometimes it was supplies they might find useful, sometimes it was refugees who had nowhere else to go, and sometimes it was just news.

This time it was news. 

When he came in from the wasteland Furiosa had food and water brought to him, and she summoned the sisters and Nux to hear what he had to say. They were all glad to see him, but knew better than to push. Max would speak when he was ready, and not a moment before.

Little by little, he gathered his thoughts and told him what had brought him back this time.

There was a bandit stronghold about a day and a half’s ride away. Word had spread about the change in leadership and some bandit leader with dreams of carving out a kingdom for himself thought it would be easy to conquer them now that Joe was gone and a bunch of women were running the place.

Worse yet, Max had discovered, there were a large number of people being held prisoner. He wasn’t sure how many. A few dozen used for slave labor, and an even more unlucky handful kept as ‘pets’ for the leader and his inner circle. 

Learning that had made the decision to deal with the bandits before they made a move on Citadel territory unanimous. After some deliberation, it was decided that Toast and Max would lead this party. Furiosa would stay behind and defend the Citadel in case someone thought to take advantage of the situation. Toast had become a skilled leader, and Max knew where they were going and was worth twenty war boys in a fight, so she wasn’t too worried. They were also bringing along Nux for his skill as a driver, and Capable since she had been learning medicine and could patch up any injuries that may occur. 

And so it was decided that for the first time since the change in leadership, the Citadel would be sending out a war party.

\--

Slit had just managed to settle into an uneasy doze when he was jolted awake by the sound of an engine revving and the unmistakable thump that could only be something exploding. He listened more carefully and caught gunfire and people yelling.

When the sounds got closer he let out a whoop of excitement and started banging on the lid. He didn’t really expect to be rescued, but at least something was happening. At least he might be let out and given a chance to fight and die proper.

“Someone in there?” a voice called out.

There was something hauntingly familiar about the voice, but that was the last thing he cared about right now. Slit could hardly believe his luck. It actually took him a moment to remember how to form words. “Uh, yeah. You gonna let me out?”

“Hang in there,” another voice said. “We’ve got to either find the key, or grab the bolt cutters, but we’ll get you out.”

“Found it!” The first voice said cheerfully.

No. It couldn’t be. He should be dead. Even if the Immortan hadn’t shredded him he should be dead by now. 

Nux had been on the verge of burning out back when they’d gone on their last ride together. There was no way that it could be his former driver about to rescue him. Maybe he had been in the Box so long that he was starting to see things. Maybe he had already died and Nux had come to take him to wherever traitors and war boys who died soft went. Maybe-

There was a rattle as the lock came off and the lid was opened. He blinked and waited for his eyes to adjust after so long in the dark. Slit wondered how he must look to his rescuers. It had been months since he’s been able to shave properly, his hair and beard were a wild tangle. Hopefully they didn’t mistake him for a feral and shoot him.

“Slit? You’re alive!” 

Shock was instantly replaced by anger. How dare that smeg just show up and save him? How dare the fucking traitor have the balls to sound happy to see him!

Nux moved to help him up, still babbling about how glad he was to see him. The moment Slit was on his feet he hauled off and punched Nux as hard as he could. Nux fell back in surprise and, with a howl of rage, Slit leapt after him.

Distantly he could feel his wounds reopening and fresh blood running down his side, but that didn’t matter. All he wanted to do was get his hands around Nux’s throat. He didn’t care about the others trying to pull him off, or the distant sound of someone screaming for help. All that mattered was venting more than a years’ worth of pent up rage.

“No! Don’t hurt him!” Nux gasped to the others, just trying to push him off.

That his former friend wasn’t even trying to fight back only made Slit angrier and more confused. Why wasn’t he fighting back? Why?

The sound of a gun being cocked cut through the haze of anger and confusion, making Slit let go automatically. Unlike a lot of war boys he still had some trace of self-preservation.

“Get off him.” It was one of the Breeders from before. The tiny one with short hair. “Now!” she said more sharply.

Something in her tone of voice told him she wouldn’t hesitate to shoot if he didn’t. Slit backed off unsteadily on his knees, trying not to show weakness as Nux scrambled out from under him.

“What are you doing here?” Nux asked. He still looked like he was overjoyed to see Slit. He didn’t even seem to notice the blood leaking from his split lip.

Any other time Slit would have yelled at him for being a traitor who asked stupid questions. Suddenly, that just seemed like way too much effort. He was unbearably tired, and there was a grayish haze creeping in on his vision.

Nux glanced down and noticed the gash in his side and paled slightly.

The Tiny breeder must have seen too because she swore softly and passed the gun to Nux. With surprising swiftness she was at his side and pressing a rag from her pocket against his side hard enough to make him gasp and the gray to close in a little farther.

“You need help,” she said. “We can sort out the rest later.”

There was more talking after that. And then Nux was carrying him somewhere like he was a pup and not too big for such things. That part made him snarl a little, but he didn’t really have the energy to care anymore. He was so damn tired, it was something of a relief to just close his eyes and let everything go away for a while. 

\--

Slit woke up a few hours later feeling like his insides were full of sand. That he woke up at all was something of a surprise. The smart thing to do would be to kill him while he couldn’t fight back. 

He looked around trying to get his bearings. He was laying on something soft, and there was a blanket over him. It felt like his wounds had been stitched and bandaged. He was inside, and could hear the distant howling of the wind outside. The room he was in was mostly dark, but a single lantern provided just enough light that he could see the tiny breeder from before crouched a few feet away, watching him intently.

“Good,” she said. “We weren’t sure when you would wake up. You want some water? You’re probably dehydrated.” She held up a canteen.

For a moment he almost said no, but the raw itch in his throat stopped him. Might as well. It’s not like it mattered anymore weather or not he was addicted. Besides, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had any. “Y-yeah, okay.”

She helped him up, thankfully not commenting on his weakness, or the pained sound he made when his side twinged hard enough to make him cry out.

“Sorry,” she said. “I’m pretty sure you’ve got some broken ribs along with everything else.”

He ignored her and took the canteen, drinking quickly in case she changed her mind about letting him have some of her aqua-cola.

“Slow down, war boy. You’ll make yourself sick that way.”

“So?” he asked when he stopped for breath.

“Fine. If you throw up all over yourself I’m not cleaning up the mess.”

That was enough to convince him to slow down. He’d already spent more than enough time covered in his own filth.

“Good,” she said once he’d drunk his fill. “You can be reasonable, even if it is a rare occurrence.”

He glared at her as he lay back down, hoping she would just go away. If she and her traitor friends weren’t going to kill him then could they at least leave him alone?

She didn’t leave, but she did at least shrug and go back to cleaning the gun she had disassembled and spread out in front of her. He watched her work for a while, a little fascinated despite himself. He’d seen breeders before, of course, but never up close like this. A wife of the Immortan! Cleaning a gun and tending wounds like anyone else would.

Shit. That must mean that the rumors that had filtered down to even the lowest slaves in the stronghold really were true. Immortan Joe was dead. Killed out on the Fury Road, and torn apart by the Wretched like any other corpse.

“Anyone ever tell you it’s rude to stare, war boy?” The breeder asked without looking up, derailing the thought before he could process it fully.

“No.”

“Well, it is. Knock it off.”

He smiled, knowing how disturbing it looked. “You don’t like it, Breeder? You can leave.”

She snapped the last piece into place and loaded a clip. “My name is Toast, not Breeder. Call me that again and I’ll take back the blood I gave you earlier.”

Slit looked at the mark on his wrist from a recent transfusion, feeling a strange twist in his stomach. “What’s a b-,” he paused, remembering that she was armed now and he wasn’t. “What are you doing giving blood, Toasty? Run out of Blood-Bags or something?”

If she had a problem with the nickname she didn’t show it. “We don’t keep prisoners like that anymore. Now people donate willingly for extra rations in return.”

Weird, but it did sound like less trouble than keeping Blood-Bags in cages all the time. The handful of times he’d been stuck working a shift in the blood shed were a pain in the ass. One time, he’d even gotten bit giving a stubborn Blood-Bag a haircut! Slit wondered how you got ferals to give willingly once you’d chased them down.

“Anyway,” Toast continued. “You’re lucky Nux remembered your blood type. Max was busy rounding up the last of the trouble makers.”

He really didn’t want to think about Nux saving his ass yet again. “Where are we now?”

“Still in the stronghold. Whoever was in charge here is dead, along with most of his men, and with a big storm rolling in we decided staying put till it passes is the best move. Found an empty room to put you in since we weren’t sure how much of a scene you’d cause when you woke up.”

Glad someone killed that schlanger. Just disappointed it wasn’t me. 

“So how’d a war boy like you end up here?” she asked, distracting him.

“Slit,” he replied irritably.

“What?”

“My name’s Slit. If I have to use your name, you have to use mine.” He didn’t particularly care if she knew his name, but he wasn’t giving something for nothing.

“Okay, Slit it is. How did you end up here?”

He was a little disappointed that she agreed so easily. “Scavengers pulled me out of my car after it wrecked. Thought I’d be worth more alive than dead, so they patched me up. Ended up selling me to Lord Smeg-For-Brains when I turned out to be too much trouble. And here I am.” He didn’t want to talk about what came after. The ways they’d tried to break him. The things they had wanted from him. He didn’t even want to think about it ever again if he could help it.

“And why where you locked up in an old refrigerator box when we found you?” she asked quietly.

“Because I threatened to rip a man’s cock off if he put it anywhere near me again,” he snarled, thinking it would scare her into leaving him alone.

She smiled with a grim sort of understanding. “Used to dream about doing that to Joe. Too bad he was smart enough not to give any of us the chance.” 

Slit was shocked to hear anyone, especially one of his widows, say something like that about the Immortan, but for some reason it just made him laugh until his sides ached. This whole day had been just too strange to believe. He wouldn’t be surprised if it was all a dream and he would wake up back in the Box.

Without speaking, Toast put a hand on his shoulder and rubbed a bit. 

“What the hell is that for?” It felt weird, but kinda nice. He wasn’t sure if he liked it or not.

“I’m sorry you went through all that, Slit. And I’m glad we found you.”

He brushed her off, not sure how to react to her sympathy. “Whatever. Wouldn’t have happened if it hadn’t been for you and your traitor friends.”

She backed off at that, an odd look on her face. He should have been happy that she’d backed down, but he wasn’t. It didn’t feel as good as he thought it would. He almost wanted her to do that thing with her hand again.

“So what happens next?” he asked, irritated with himself.

She shrugged. “That depends on you. If you can behave yourself, you’ll be welcome back at the Citadel. Furiosa can find something for you to do. And if you don’t want that, you can get a ride to the Bullet Farm or Gastown. They’re still shorthanded, and would probably take you if you asked.”

With an effort, he pushed back the burning rage that Furiosa’s name conjured for him. “Last time I saw her, she crushed my car between two rigs. Why the fuck would she let me in?”

“Because there’s been enough unnecessary killing already. We’ll fight to hold onto what’s ours, but we aren’t going to turn away anyone who’s willing to follow our rules and work with us. Besides, if you’re even half the lancer Nux seems to think you are, we could use you.”

He grunted in response and looked back at the ceiling. “Maybe,” he said after a moment, not wanting to sound desperate.

She let out a huff. “Think about it, at least.” 

As usual, Slit had no idea what to say to that. He was still a little stuck on that strange moment they had just shared, not even paying attention as she got him settled back in his nest of blankets.

Before he could come up with a decent response the door opened to admit a war boy. “Um, Capable sent me to come find you. Something about sorting through the supplies since we might be stuck here for a while.” He was young and scrawny looking, barely more than a pup. Probably hadn’t been old enough to go out with the war party when Furiosa took off.

“Be right there. Thanks, Skech.” She looked back at Slit. “I’ll let you get some rest. Someone will be by a little later to check on you and bring some food.”

Slit didn’t look at her as she picked up her things and left him alone. He should have welcomed the privacy, but that just meant there was nothing to distract him from the strange thoughts circling like hungry buzzards.

\--

“So how is he?” Nux asked the moment he found her in the hallway.

The ended up walking together, ducking between piles of rubble, and small groups of people. The ruins that made up the stronghold where structurally sound enough to live in, but she wouldn’t want to stay there long term. She was glad they wouldn’t have to for more than a few days.

“He’ll live. Woke up and snarled at me for a bit. Is he always that insufferable?”

Nux laughed. “Yeah, he’s always been like that. Even when we were pups. It’s nothing personal. He doesn’t really like anyone and has a temper like a box of hungry lizards.”

Toast looked at him curiously. “I thought you said he was your best friend?”

“He is! Or was, anyway. Don’t let him push you around and you’ll get along fine.”

She liked Nux. She hadn’t expected to become friends with him, but once you got to know him it was hard not to. He was kind, cheerful, always willing to lend a hand with anything she needed, and made her sister very happy. If he had a major fault, it was that he was excitable and much too trusting. Fortunately, she could be paranoid enough for the both of them. 

“Are you sure about him?” she asked.

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“It’s been a long time. People do change.” He was proof enough of that.

He didn’t answer right away, concentrating on picking his way past another pile of rocks. “You heard about what’s been going on here?”

Toast nodded, feeling a little sick. Part of her was glad that the raiders had chosen to fight and die rather than take the offered chance to surrender. Like her sisters, she didn’t believer in killing unnecessarily, but it was hard not to see that as necessary. She had survived some pretty awful things, but she wasn’t sure how to help someone else who had been through a similarly traumatic experience. 

“I’m not giving up on him,” Nux continued. “He’s tough, but not as tough as he’d like everyone to think.”

That was another reason she liked Nux. He was loyal to those he cared about.

\--

It was later that night when there was a knock on the door.

“What?” Slit snapped, feeling irritable.

Nux poked his head in the room. “Can I come in, or are ya gonna go kami-crazy again? Cause’ if not, I brought food.” He held up two bowls of something that smelled good enough to make Slit’s stomach growl. 

He was still angry, but for a decent meal and just maybe getting his life back, he’d play nice. “Get over here. Shredding you ain’t worth the effort.”

Nux grinned in return, helping Slit sit up and finding something for him to lean back against. It was still embarrassing, but not quite as bad as needing help from Toast. They’d known each other too long for there to be much room for shyness.

Dinner was some kind of stew made from travel rations and a little fresh meat, probably lizard. Slit dug into his portion right away, barely even tasting it. They ate in silence for a while before Slit finally dared to ask the question that he couldn’t stop turning over in his head.

“Why’d you do it?”

Nux looked up at him with wide eyes. “Do what?”

“You know what I mean. Why’d you traitor the Immortan. What did they offer that was chrome enough to make you traitor all of us?” Slit was almost afraid of what the answer might be. Nux had been one of the most devout people he knew.

He bit his lip and looked away. “All of them, especially Capable, were so good to me when they didn’t have to be. And the Immortan…he wasn’t. They didn’t offer me anything but the truth. Joe was doing bad things, and lying to all of us about a lot of stuff.”

“Like being a god?” Slit asked quietly.

Nux nearly choked on a bit of lizard. “Yeah.” He coughed, trying to clear his throat. “Not really sure what I believe in now, but it ain’t him. How’d you know that?”

Slit wasn’t sure what made him say what he did next, maybe because it just didn’t matter anymore, or maybe he just didn’t care. “I haven’t believed in him for a long time.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. If he was so powerful why’s everything so shit?” he spat bitterly. It felt kinda good to actually say that after so long. He’d first started to wonder about it around the time Nux first started getting sick. The time since he’d been taken by raiders had worn away what little faith remained.

Nux fidgeted with a loose strap on his pants, still not looking at him. “His wives thought the same thing. He treated them awful, kept them locked up and treated them like things. They escaped to get away from him.”

“So how’d you end up on the War Rig with them?” 

Slit listened as Nux told him about failing to die proper several times and being found in the back of the Rig by someone named Capable. She, according to Nux, was just about the shiniest person ever and had saved him with her kindness by teaching him the truth about Joe. And then saved him yet again when he had nearly died flipping the War Rig to hold off their pursuers. 

It all sounded like a load of rusted scrap to him, (except for the part about driving the Rig, that was pretty chrome) but Nux seemed to be doing well enough. Even looked a little healthier, which raised another question. 

“Why aren’t you dead yet? Last I heard, everyone was betting you only had another hundred days, if that.”

“Not yet, I ain’t.” he tugged aside the dust scarf he had looped around his neck, revealing a couple of new scars where his mates had been. “The new O.M. tried out some other stuff too. Made me feel like shit, but seems to have worked. I’m not exactly healthy, but not nearly as sick as I was.”

Slit only half listened to the rest of what Nux had to say about how the experimental treatments had gone for the other war boys and some volunteers from the former Wretched. Hardly any of that made sense, but there was nothing new about that. The whole damn world seemed to be falling apart on him. Did he even want to go home if it wasn’t home anymore? On the other hand, it did sound better. Less chance of dying soft meant more time out on the road, more time to fight and die proper. That was still worth something to him, even if he couldn’t explain why.

Just as Nux was finishing up telling him about a Buzzard raid a few weeks back, the door opened again, admitting a woman with strange, red hair. 

“Just wanted to check and make sure you two weren’t fighting again,” she said to Nux.

“Nope. All shiny here.”

She smiled at him. “Good. I also wanted to make sure you remembered to get some rest. You just got cleared to be back out on the road. You don’t want to ruin that by getting sick again.”

“Still think you worry too much. I’m feeling just fine,” he protested.

“And you’re going to keep feeling that way by taking proper care of yourself. Besides, I’m tired enough to need rest. Mind keeping me company?”

“Sure.” Nux sprang to his feet to help her lay down a few blankets. 

Slit tried to ignore the two of them talking to each other about their day. He’d never cared much about privacy, his or anyone else’s, but listening felt weirdly intrusive. So this was Capable. Slit wondered how the hell she had such a hold over Nux. Sure, she was pretty chrome looking, but so what? Toast was chrome too, but Slit wasn’t about to start following her orders.

“If I bed down here you aren’t gonna try and kill me in my sleep are you, Slit?” Nux asked.

“Only if you still snore.” Slit muttered, still trying to get comfortable.

“I don’t snore nearly as loud as you.” Nux flopped down on a bedroll just out of reach.

Slit responded with a rude gesture, but it was rather halfhearted. Truthfully, he’d missed being around people who weren’t broken down and hopeless. They were a bunch of rusty traitors, but maybe he could get used to them.

Capable gave them both a look like she wasn’t sure if she was amused or annoyed, but didn’t comment as she settled down beside Nux and snuffed the lantern.

“Slit? You awake?” Nux asked.

He grunted, hoping Nux would think he was asleep.

“I’m sorry, Slit. I’m so sorry about all this. I thought you were dead. Would’ve rescued you sooner otherwise.”

Slit thought about all the time they’d known each other. All the times they’d fought, and all the times they’d watched each other’s backs. He’d never say it, but he’d missed his driver, was glad they were both still alive.

“Go to sleep, Nux. I’ll kick your ass in the morning.”

\--

On the second day Toast came back with a basin of warm water and a mission. Slit was doing better. Able to sit up on his own now, but still confined to his room. The storm outside showed no sign of letting up yet, so they were still stuck where they were. Max was guessing it might be another day or two till it ended. She figured she might as well get something done in the meantime.

“What’s that for?” Slit asked right away, eyeing the basin uneasily. 

“If I’m going to keep watch over you I’d rather not have to smell you as well. I’m giving you a bath, lizard man.”

He gave her a rather indignant look. “No, you aren’t.”

She wanted to dig in and argue, but that would probably make him even more defensive. “If you aren’t comfortable accepting help that’s fine, but I thought you’d like a chance to clean up a little.” She showed him the rest of the things she’d brought; hair clippers, some soap, and a shaving razor.

It was an obvious bribe, he had to see that, but the offer was made in good faith. She liked the crazy, scarred up war boy in an odd sort of way, and wanted to help him. She’d spent enough time around various war boys to know that most of them hated letting their hair grow out. They said it was itchy, too hot, and too easy to trap bugs and dirt.

“Fine,” he said, getting up and letting her lead him over to a nearby chair. “Let’s get it over with, Toasty.”

Toast didn’t gloat, she just dipped the rag in the water and started washing his face. She hadn’t expected him to give in so easily. Between what Nux had told her and her own perception of him she knew he was one stubborn bastard. A little kindness went a long way with most war boys, but Slit seemed to regard kindness as a personal insult. It just made him more unhappy and aggressive.

Fortunately, Slit seemed willing to behave for the moment. He didn’t resist as she ran the damp rag over his skin. He actually seemed to be trying to pretend she wasn’t there at all. That was fine with her. She wasn’t exactly comfortable with this either. 

As more and more of the grime came off she was able to get a better look at his scars. She’d seen them before when they were patching him up and given him a cursory wash to clean the wounds, so she knew he was covered in them, but the detail was surprising. They reminded her of the scribbles she’d found in the margins of a word-burger in the vault. A bunch of stick-figures and doodles that were more interesting than the rather dry subject matter of the words. All the war boys had intricate scarification, but Slit seemed to regard his body as something to draw on whenever the mood took him. It was both disturbing and oddly charming.

When she started on his back, being careful to avoid the still healing lacerations, he made another odd noise. It took her a moment to realize it was one of enjoyment rather than pain. That made her want to take her time. It was strangely satisfying and made her wonder what other noises she could get him to make. That thought took her by surprise. She hadn’t expected to feel that way about anyone, especially someone as irritating as Slit was proving to be.

“Hey, Toasty! You gonna spend all day admiring my back or are you gonna finish up?”

She rolled her eyes and tossed aside the rag. “Almost done. Hand me the clippers.”

He passed them to her without comment, but she could tell he was thinking about something. So it was no surprise when he did speak up.

“Why’re you doing this?”

“Because I wanted to help you.” 

He gave an impatient grunt. “Yeah, but what do you want from me?”

She leaned over to get a better look at him. “What makes you think I want anything from you?”

“Nobody does stuff for nothing. Not unless you scare ‘em bad enough to make them do what you want. But you ain’t scared of me.” He sounded rather put out about that.

She didn’t bother to respond, more interested in dealing with his tangles mass of hair.

After a moment he continued. “You’re being nice to try and trick me into coming back with you. Probably think you can tame me like Red did Nux.”

“Yes, Slit,” she said sarcastically. “This has all been an elaborate plot to seduce you with baths and haircuts. You’ve figured it out! Truly I am no match for you!”

There was another of those lizard noises from him that might have been a laugh, but he thankfully dropped the subject and let her finish up in peace. She trimmed his hair and beard down as close as she could, thinking it would make shaving off the rest easier.

“I can finish up on my own,” he said when she reached for the razor.

Did he not trust her? Or was he just being stubborn again? Probably a bit of both, she decided as he took it from her. Whatever the case, it wasn’t worth fighting over. She watched to make sure he didn’t cut himself, but needn’t have worried. His hands seemed steady enough and he could probably shave himself faster than she would have done it. 

“So, what do ya think?” he asked when he was done, giving her another kami-crazy grin.

Still ghastly, but better. He looked more comfortable, at any rate. 

“You’ll do.”

\--

After he finished shaving Slit went and sat back down on his bedroll, fully expecting Toast to leave again. She’d gotten what she wanted, after all. But no, she just settled down in her corner and pulled out a word-burger like he wasn’t even there. Neither of them said anything for a while, but eventually Slit had to ask the question that wouldn’t leave him alone. 

“If I do go back with you, and I’m not sayin’ I will, how long till I can get back to lancing?” he asked, trying to make it seem like he didn’t really care about the answer. As if getting back out on the road didn’t matter to him more than anything else.

She shrugged. “Might be a while. You’ve got some broken bones that need to heal, and we should have the Organic do something about that lump on your ear.”

He felt like someone just kicked him in the guts. “No. I…I’m fine! I ain’t letting him cut on me again!”

He remembered the least time he’d been hurt bad enough to need the Organic Mechanic’s help. It had been just plain bad luck. One of the lances in the shop was unstable and went off when someone bumped it. He’d gotten a bunch of scrap in his guts and there had been blood everywhere. Somehow, Nux had gotten him up to the blood shed and convinced the Organic to save him. Normally any war boy stupid enough to get so badly hurt in a shop accident would be thrown to the wretched like the trash he was. Slit knew what exactly Nux had traded to get him the help he needed, everyone knew about the favors that the Organic would sometimes demanded from desperate war boys in return for his services. 

“Slit, calm down! It’s okay.” Toast put down her word-burger and lay one of her little hands on his arm, trying to make him settle down.

But it wasn’t okay.

He’d still been recovering a few days later when it was time for Nux to make his first ‘payment’ to the Organic. They’d never talked about it, but it was clear that paying the price had taken a lot out of his friend. Slit had made that same bargain once before, so he knew what was going to happen. Gotten Nux an emergency top-up when he would have had to wait too long otherwise. Slit would rather die covered in lumps than do that again, or maybe worse yet, let someone else pay that price for him.

“No,” he spat. “I don’t want his help.” 

“Why not?” she asked, giving him an unreadable look.

Did she know? 

Even if she knew he wasn’t gonna talk about it. War boys weren’t supposed to be afraid on anything. Weren’t supposed to care about what happened to their sickly half-life bodies because they were expected to endure until they were called to Valhalla.

Maybe he could give her the other reason he hated the Organic. Maybe that would be enough to make her go away. “Don’t want to. Besides, last time I was there, that schlanger closed me up with staples,” he said, gesturing to his face and his belly. 

“And never bothered to take them out when you were done healing?” Toast traced a finger along the ones on his face, her touch gentle despite the anger in her voice.

“I wasn’t gonna go back and ask. Hated that creepy smeg. Besides, everyone else thought they looked pretty chrome.”

Her lips twitched up in what might have been a smile. “Well, they certainly make you stand out in a crowd.” 

For some reason, he smiled back. Between her looking at him like that, and her hands on him, Slit felt strangely warm inside. What the fuck was wrong with him?

Toast seemed to have similar thoughts once she realized she was still touching him. She pulled her hand back quickly, as if burned. “Sorry. Still, you really should get that lump checked out. We have a new Organic now. She’s not like the old one, doesn’t force people to do things they don’t want to in return for help. She’s been teaching one of my sisters’ medicine, actually.”

Well, that was something. Toast must trust the new Organic if she would leave her sister alone with them. Didn’t make him feel all that much better, but maybe he’d think about it. Nux seemed okay with the Organic when they had talked about it the other night too. With the old one he’d always avoided going in for a top up till he was too sick to avoid it.

Slit shrugged, feeling stupid for letting her see him so rattled. “Good. There’s been enough of that shit already.”

She nodded, seeming to understand. “I never liked him either. He would always start drooling when he examined one of us, trying to touch way more than was actually necessary.”

“Did that with us boys too. Hope the buzzards ate him,” he spat.

“Nah, buzzards have better taste than that.”

Slit knew right then that he liked her, and hoped he’d still see her after he was done healing up. It wasn’t until much later that he realized he’d already decided to go back with her.

\--

Slit felt the change in the air when the sand storm broke almost a day-and-a-half later. It wasn’t just the weather. The entire mood in the stronghold shifted. He could hear the commotion as everyone moved to dig out the vehicles and assess damage. It made him itchy to get out there as well. They probably didn’t need another pair of hands, but he was sick of doing nothing.

Slit had just gone out into the corridor when he almost ran right into Nux.

“Good. I found you. Come here, Slit.” Nux dragged him back into the room where he had been recovering and started digging in the pack he was carrying. “Storm broke. As soon as we can get dug out and everyone loaded up we fang it back home.”

“What are y-?” Before he could even finish the question Nux had tossed him a pair of pants.

“Found some spares,” he said by way of explanation, passing Slit a pair of boots as well.

Slit started getting dressed automatically, not questioning the sudden generosity. They didn’t fit as well as his old ones, but they’d do. A borrowed belt fixed that. The last thing to come out of the pack were two tins that on closer inspection contained black grease and white clay powder that could be mixed into war paint.

“Thought you’d want to go home dressed proper.” Nux explained awkwardly. 

“You really have gone soft, and now you’re dragging me down with you.” He should have been angry about that, but he wasn’t. Instead that weird feeling was back again.

“Maybe,” Nux replied with a grin. “Now get painted and meet me up top. No idling, Slit.” He slapped him on the back and ran off.

It didn’t take much time to mix up and apply the paint. Even after so long it was something he could almost do in his sleep. What a difference that thin coating made. He’d missed it almost as much as he’d missed everything else. Putting it back on felt like getting a little of his life back.

When he walked out to the waiting rigs it was with some of his old swagger. Toast looked at him with obvious surprise. He hoped that meant he’d done a good job.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’d rude to stare, Toasty?”

She recovered her balance quickly. “Get on the rig, Lizard Man. I don’t need another lancer today, but you can ride shotgun.”

He laughed as he scrambled into the waiting vehicle, not quite able to contain his excitement. He had no idea what to do with his new life, but he could work that out later. Right now, the road awaited.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
